


The Old Kingdom...In 3 to 5 sentences.

by suspiciousteapot



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Coronation, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspiciousteapot/pseuds/suspiciousteapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 3-5 sentence ficlets from prompts on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coronation

**Author's Note:**

> Garth Nix owns the things. Comments of the positive or constructive kind are appreciated, as are kudos. Thanks for reading :)

As the crown is placed on his head, Touchstone can barely breathe for the weight on him, the doubts and judgment of all of the Old Kingdom, as well as his own.

He has won many friends, but many still believe he is not worthy of this circlet; of this office that they call an honour.

Yet, as he struggles to breathe normally, a crown that is almost identical to his own is placed on top of the raven hair of the woman he loves, and suddenly the weight of the crown seems less, now that she wears one too.


	2. Beyond the Door in the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from clovermaiden on tumblr: "3 sentence prompt: Lirael Library Mini-adventure!"

She watched her mistress’s face light up as her eyes took in the tall, cylindrical room beyond the concealed and heavily Charter-locked door in the ice, and Lirael's wonder as she started up the stair built into the narrow spiral of packed bookshelves that surely extended up beyond where her eyes could see. 

The books smelled old and powerful; they had doubtless been forgotten for hundreds of years… or deliberately kept far away from where errant Clayr and visitors might find them. 

But they were not errant Clayr or visitors, and her mistress would need to know as much about powerful magic as she could.


	3. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3-sentence fic prompt by isitorderorisitchaos: “How about Sabriel teaching Lireal?”

“We were too late. We’re always too late.” 

By now Sabriel could recognize the quiet anger and despair in her sister’s voice. She guessed that Lirael had reached the point where the faces of those whom they’d been a second too late to save had started to blend together into a single nightmare that played before her eyes every time she closed them. 

“We were too late for some before the letter they sent even reached us, and we always will be. We will be unable to stop the deaths of so many that we could never hope to remember who each one was. You must not let that consume you, and you must not blame yourself, because it is impossible to save everyone. We live a life surrounded by death, and to live without losing ourselves in that sorrow, or hardening ourselves and narrowing our horizons so that death is all we see, we must focus on life, on those we love, and on those we have saved, for those are far more numerous, and far more meaningful.”


	4. Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from ninthbrightshiner (on tumblr): “Lirael goes to have her new hand fitted”

Fixing the physical wounds was easier.

She had not been surprised to learn Sam thought it possible to replace her hand with one of gold and Charter, but it was the other wound that kept her up at night; the one that none could see, the one that could not be mended. Yet she had been happy and touched to learn that he wanted to make her a new hand, so she had accepted his offer, and Sam had set to work tinkering and experimenting. They talked of many things as he worked, Lirael talking more to him than she had to almost anyone.

As he fitted the hand to her arm, she realized that while fixing the physical wounds was easier, fixing the other wounds was not at all impossible; indeed they might even go hand in hand.


	5. The Mirror was Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (ask me the first line of a fic and I'll write the next five) from radicalhufflepuff on tumblr: "One by one, the stars of the Ninth Gate winked out until Lirael was shrouded in utter darkness."

She waited in vain for the mirror to brighten again. When she could wait no longer, Lirael spoke her request again, her voice breaking as she asked the mirror to show her what had befallen her mother. Once more the mirror cleared and the suns spun back to settle on a bright autumn day. Once more it showed her mother leaving the Abhorsen’s house, a scene that now played in perfect detail whenever Lirael closed her eyes.

When she’d searched for the Dog in the mirror, part of her had known she would get no answer, but she had been so hopeful when she’d asked it to show her her mother. Yet each time she’d asked, the same scene had played out, always ending with Arielle climbing into a paperwing and flying up into a sky that faded into the stars of the Ninth Gate. At first, she thought she’d asked the wrong question, or was standing in the wrong gate. So she had wandered through the precincts, asking it over and over, day after day the same question phrased in every possible way she could think to ask it. And every time she watched the scene play out until the stars too faded, along with her hopes of ever learning her mother’s fate.


	6. Wine Fixes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (ask me the first line of a fic and I'll write the next five) from abhorsen-daenerys on tumblr: ""I - *hic* - am the Abhorsen...you *hic* must obey me!"

Sabriel leaned back and took another sip of wine.

“And then he’ll shut up and stop causing so much trouble for us,” she said decisively.

Touchstone laughed and leaned over to kiss her. Every once in a while, when Sabriel got drunk - which wasn’t often - she would decide that all of their problems could be fixed by commanding who or whatever was causing the problem to simply cease being a nuisance. As Touchstone was usually drunk as well, he tended to think this was a splendid idea.

“And then your friend Sulyn can just join the party, and take over as Chief Minister.”

“Exactly!” She exclaimed, pouring them both some more wine.

“Well that’s Ancelstierre dealt with then.”

They clinked their glasses and drank the last of the wine, enjoying their triumph, at least until they were sober enough to find a real solution.


End file.
